The Ven Hypothesis (Kepos Chronicles Book 2)

by Erica Rue

  A small stage had been erected at the head of the square next to some ugly, abstract statue. The platform was just high enough for the musicians on it to see above the crowd. Glowglobes lined the square. They emitted a yellow light so dull that Lithia wondered what the Ficarans fed them.

  Victoria held up a hand, and the quiet chatter stopped almost immediately. Lithia couldn’t help being impressed.

  “Today was a day for victory, but victory always has a cost. Today, twelve of our brothers and sisters gave their lives, but they died free from Aratian oppression. They died good deaths. Their sacrifice has reminded us to live. Every day we live by our own laws is a day to celebrate. We can mourn their deaths, but first we must celebrate their lives, and in doing so, honor them. Honor what it means to be a Ficaran.”

  Victoria raised her hand into the air again, this time earning raucous applause from the crowd. That also seemed to be the signal for the music to start, though the beat was slow. A girl with a voice clear as water began a melancholy tune. Lithia was surprised to find that she knew the words. Grandpa Min used to sing it sometimes. It was a farewell to lost companions. After the first verse, the crowd joined in. The chorus of voices gave her goose bumps, especially when Brian joined in with the harmony. She looked over at him, but his eyes were closed.

  Everyone around her was singing, and she felt compelled to join them. They were not her people who died, but the music moved her. She had fought alongside them, and her thoughts turned to the boy she had tried to save. What had happened to him?

  Lithia closed her eyes and began to sing the chorus, interweaving her soprano melody with Brian’s harmony. She might have her father’s eyes, but she had her mother’s voice.

  Take the loaf and pass it ’round,

  Then pour a glass to wash it down—

  A toast to friends! A toast to blood!

  We trees who all survived the flood,

  Let’s drain our cups; sate our roots;

  Endure to bear tomorrow’s fruits.

  As she sang the last line, she opened her eyes to see Brian staring at her. At first, she was worried she had done something wrong by joining in, but he didn’t look angry. He looked surprised.

  When the song was over, the musicians picked up their beat without ending the song. The solemn elegy shifted into a more upbeat tune, and the people around them spun and stomped and began the celebration.

  Brian led her away from the center of the square. “I didn’t realize you could sing like that,” he said.

  “You’re not bad yourself.” Lithia grinned. “I can’t believe Victoria didn’t lock us up.”

  “We’re not exactly free. We’re confined to the settlement,” Brian said.

  “But she’s letting us join the festivities.”

  He shook his head. “She’s up to something. Threatening Dione didn’t work. She tried the stick. Now, she’s trying the carrot. Don’t be fooled.”

  “Speaking of carrots…”

  Barrels and boxes of food had been put out at the back of the square, along with ample bottles of juice, beer, and liquor. Lithia’s stomach growled, but Brian had already beaten her to the buffet.

  “So this is all from her raid today?” Lithia said.

  Brian managed to say yes through a full mouth. After he swallowed, he filled his hands with more stolen Aratian provisions and directed her to grab a bottle of some brown liquor.

  “Come on,” he said, beckoning her to the edge of the square. She followed him to an out-of-the-way spot where they could still hear the wild strings and see the movements of the dancers. He sat with his back against a building, and she plopped down next to him.

  He laid out a spread of dried fruit and bread and cheese. A simple meal, but to the Ficarans, a feast.

  “I bet you don’t get much cheese here,” she said, chasing a swig of the liquor with a morsel of cheese.

  “Nope. Not much alcohol either.” He extended his hand, and Lithia put the bottle in his grasp. He tipped it up to his mouth, swallowed, and coughed.

  Lithia laughed. “Did you know that it’s illegal for me to drink where I come from?”

  “Let me guess. You do anyway.”

  “On occasion. Dione never does, though.”

  Brian laughed and passed the bottle back. “Why does that not surprise me?”

  After more food and a few more passes of the bottle, Lithia felt amazing. Somehow she was numb and tingly at the same time, and she could not only hear the music, but she also felt it.

  Musicians were playing a lively tune that reminded her of ancient jigs. Every few minutes the song would transition, the beat would shift, and the eager dancers would adjust. Lithia just stood, staring. It was amazing.

  “Do you dance?” she asked Brian.

  He stood and brushed off his pants, offering her a hand up. “The real question is, do you?”

  “I think I’ve had enough to drink to give it a try, though this dancing is not what I’m used to. It just looks so fun. Will you teach me?” She took his hand and gripped it tight. He pulled her to her feet, and her head swam with warm, fuzzy happiness.

  “I’ll teach you the basics.”

  There were enough people dancing in the square—and enough bottles going around—that she was not the worst dancer there. Brian taught her a few steps that followed the basic dancing principle of follow the leader. When he stepped back, she stepped forward, and vice versa. Sure, Brian was able to add more drama and flourishes to his moves, but with the music rising and falling all around her, she easily obeyed the rhythm. Though the other dancers showed no signs of growing weary, after a few songs, she had to excuse herself to find some water.

  As she left, Brian found his friend Melanie and danced with her a few rounds. Melanie was on par with Brian’s skill level, Lithia noticed, and the two swept around the square matching each other and transitioning seamlessly with the music. Lithia was mesmerized not only by their dancing, but by Brian himself. His flowing, dark hair, lose and free, those earnest eyes, his playful smile. She wasn’t the only girl noticing him tonight. She gave a wry grin. She had met guys like Brian before, and under the right circumstances, they could be a lot of fun.

  Mesmerized by the musicians and dancers, Lithia barely heard her manumed chime. It was Bel.

  “Hang on, friend,” she said, laughing. Lithia moved to the far edge of the square, away from the music.

  “What is hap—” Bel began. “Is that music?”

  “The Ficarans are celebrating their victory. Double victory, actually.”

  “Are you okay?”

  “Yeah, Victoria raided some Aratian farm, came back with food and booze, then we beat the Vens, and now there’s a party.”

  “Are you drunk?” Bel said. She sounded like Dione. Judgmental.

  “I’m just relaxed,” Lithia replied.

  “Lithia, this isn’t over. Today’s attack was a test run. They were feeling you guys out, figuring out your go-to offensive and defensive moves. The Vens are going to come back. Maybe tomorrow, maybe the following day, but they’re not finished. Whatever celebration is going on there, it’s premature. You should be improving fortifications, checking weapons, and getting some rest.”

  “I’ve got a meeting with Victoria tomorrow. I’ll let her know, but I doubt it will do any good. She’s set her sights on the Aratians.”

  “You have to convince her, Lithia. Do you understand how important this is?”

  “I’ll do my best, but confirmation bias is a real pain in the ass. She doesn’t think the Vens are a threat, and even I thought they gave up pretty easily tonight. Anything else?”

  “Stop drinking. Get some water and go to sleep. Please.”

  “Will do,” Lithia said, ending the call. She had found another bottle, and in order to appease Bel, she only took a small sip. Last one.

  “Why wait until tomorrow?” Victoria said. “What did you want to tell me?”

  Lithia didn’t know where Victoria had come from, but s
he wasn’t exactly in the mood to talk. She hadn’t figured out the best way to convince her of what she needed to know. All the same, there was no time like the present.

  “That the Vens will come back. In full force.”

  “We’ll be ready. Tell me about your time with the Aratians.”

  “No, you won’t be ready. Tonight was just a few dozen. Tomorrow, there will be over two hundred.”

  Victoria laughed. “Will they do more than sing in the woods?”

  Lithia stared her down. “They will destroy everything you care about.”

  “I think I may have gotten to you too late,” she said, eyeing the bottle in Lithia’s hand. “What can you tell me about the security at the Vale Temple? If I want to minimize casualties and maximize hostages, where in the Temple should I go?”

  “Huh?” Lithia was having a little trouble focusing on Victoria’s words.

  “Where are the girls’ rooms?” Victoria asked.

  “Top floor.”

  “Were there guards?”

  “Outside the Temple and everywhere I went. Until Cora ditched them.”

  Victoria sighed. “I suppose that’s good enough. Oh, and I’d ease up on that,” she said, nodding to the bottle.

  Lithia almost took another giant swig in defiance, but she remembered her promise to Bel. Well, it wasn’t technically a promise, but somewhere deep down, she knew she’d already had more than enough. This Aratian stuff was strong. She made a rude gesture to Victoria’s back as she walked away.

  Lithia leaned against the nearest building, trying to process what Bel had told her about the Vens and what she’d just told Victoria. It wasn’t working. Her brain. It didn’t want to process these unpleasant thoughts. She could die tomorrow, according to Bel, when the real attack began. There was zero chance she’d be able to convince Victoria of anything she didn’t want to hear. She didn’t hear Brian approach until he was close enough to make her jump.

  “Hey, you okay? What did Victoria want?” he asked.

  “To get us all killed. She won’t listen.”

  “What happened?” She saw the rapid rise and fall of his muscled chest, the sweet concern in his eyes.

  “I think I figured out why Victoria let us join the festivities,” Lithia said.

  “Why’s that?” Brian cocked his head to one side and smiled.

  The world was ending, and he was so damn gorgeous. Might as well.

  Lithia put her arms around his neck, tilted her head up, and paused just long enough for him to say no. When no complaints were made, she kissed him. She was not gentle. She pressed her body against his, feeling his heat, and turned him around so that his back was against the wall. There was no sweetness here, no romance, only desire and wandering hands.

  Brian broke away. “I think you’ve had too much to drink.”

  “So have you.”

  Brian leaned back. Was he embarrassed?

  “Dammit, Brian, really?” It was Melanie’s voice.

  Brian released Lithia and laughed.

  “I don’t see why you’ve got a problem, Melanie,” he said.

  “Can I talk to you for a minute, then?” she replied.

  “Sure.”

  Brian walked off with Melanie, but Lithia could still hear them.

  “See, this is why Colm punched you.”

  “You know me. Plus, she started it.”

  “And you’re wasted. No alcohol for months and you have the tolerance of child. What happened with Dione?”

  “Does it matter? If we can’t convince Victoria, we’re all dead anyway.”

  Lithia frowned. What did that mean? Did he have a thing with Dione? She hadn’t said anything. Lithia could tell Dione thought he was attractive, but that didn’t really mean anything. Dione thought almost every boy was attractive. If she spent half as much time following through as she did pining, she might have kissed more than that one guy back at StellAcademy, whatever his name was.

  It became too difficult to focus on their words. In fact, all of her focus suddenly turned inward, on not puking. While Brian and Melanie argued, she found a private place, out of the way, and threw up. She came back, found the bottle of booze, and washed her mouth out with the alcohol. Anything to get rid of the sour vomit taste. Brian and Melanie were still at it. She should find some water.

  She stumbled away. Yes, that would be good. Water.

  10. DIONE

  Dione’s frown deepened. It was bad enough that it was already dark and they were no closer to finding the professor, but the memory of her conversation with Bel kept distracting her. The Vens might be prey. What would a Ven-killer even look like? How hard would it be to kill?

  There was no point in worrying about something that probably didn’t exist, though Bel brought up some good points. She had never noticed it before, but the Vens really did have a lot of defensive adaptations, which just happened to make them ruthless killing machines, too.

  With Zane and the maximute, she had made it safely to the hunting shelter. She gave Canto some dinner and sent him to rest nearby. Like the smugglers’ den, there were whistler trees not far off. Hunters probably made good use of them. The shelter was off the ground, up in the trees, and looked like it had recently been repaired.

  “Do you think he’s alive?” Dione said, the professor on her mind.

  “It doesn’t matter. We just need to find him,” Zane said.

  “What do you mean?”

  “We can wonder all night if he’s alive, but we can’t know for sure. Tomorrow, we’re going to wake up and keep looking.”

  Dione supposed he had a point. She had a habit of worrying herself sick over things beyond her control. The night before the Post-16 internship assignments were announced, when everything was already decided, she had spent half the night staring at her bedroom ceiling, reading and rereading all of the inspirational quotes that projected against her wall, wondering if she’d get to go to Barusia. The memory felt distant, like it belonged in someone else’s life.

  “I guess you’re right,” Dione said. “Let’s get some rest.”

  ***

  It was still dark outside when Zane woke her. She checked her manumed. It was the middle of the night. Before she could speak, Zane put a finger to his lips. She sat up and listened. The whistler trees. She had no idea what had passed by. It could have been deer, or Vens, or a herd of large rabbits. She would never know.

  Once the whistling had subsided, Zane spoke. “Vens. I think I saw one in the distance.”

  “You sure?”

  “No, but I wouldn’t be telling you if I didn’t think I was right.”

  “Fair enough. You still want to follow them?” Dione asked.

  “Want isn’t the right word, but yes, I think that’s what we should do.”

  “And if they realize they’re being followed?”

  “Canto can outrun them.”

  Canto could outrun them, but that was assuming they got the chance to run.

  “Let’s give them a bit more of a head start,” Dione said.

  “Just enough time to pack up. If they get too far ahead, we’ll lose them.”

  The tracking went well for maybe an hour. The Vens had made no attempt to mask their tracks. Then, there was nothing. Dione hated to admit it, but she was relieved. She didn’t like following the Vens and was still a little paranoid that they had looped around behind and were going to attack at any minute. Canto seemed relaxed, though, so her rational mind didn’t think they were close at all.

  Dione regretted not getting more sleep, but that couldn’t be helped. Everything was still pretty dark, and she wanted to rest. Her legs were sore from the continued riding, and she could use another bathroom break.

  In the early morning hours, everything looked gray as she wandered off to find a good spot. While she took care of business and the world slowly faded into color around her, she saw something that set her heart pounding.

  It was one of those terrible red-veined flowers that belong
ed to the angler worm that had nearly killed Lithia. She hurried back to get Zane. He needed to know that he had to avoid them. This one looked smaller than the other, but that was not a risk she was willing to take.

  She found him safe and sound near the maximute. When she showed Zane the flower, he tested it by throwing a rock. Its rapid reaction was enough to make him raise his eyebrows.

  “Good to know,” he said.

  They ate an early breakfast, mostly in silence. Dione tried starting a conversation a few times, but Zane wasn’t in a talking mood and kept his answers short. She thought that after everything that had happened in the Mountain Base the night before, things were okay between them, but he was still distant.

  Finally, out of the silence, he said, “I have an idea for how to find the professor.”

  Dione sat up a little straighter and leaned in.

  “I think I can send a burst to his manumed that will light it up on our GPS.”

  “You can just do that? Track someone using their manumed?”

  “Only because I have admin privileges for the Calypso’s network. This wouldn’t work normally.”

  Dione raised an eyebrow. “The professor gave you admin privileges?”

  Zane looked away. “Not exactly.”

  “I see,” she replied. “So what’s the catch? Why didn’t you mention this earlier if it will allow us to track him?”

  Zane sighed. “See, it will only work once. It will fry his manumed and he won’t be able to talk to us at all.”

  Dione thought a moment. “I don’t see any other options, though. Let’s do it.”

  “There are two things. This will only work if his manumed isn’t completely dead or destroyed. The other is, well, it will probably hurt him.”

  “What do you mean hurt him?”

  “Like a little shock.”

  “How little?”

  “Painful, but it’s not going to kill him. Even if he’s still in the river, the power supply in a manumed can’t discharge at a high enough current to do any real damage.”

  “Good to know,” Dione said. “If we get his current location and use his old location, we’ll have two points. We can draw a line between them to get an approximate trajectory,